


Remembering Alice

by lillpon



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-07 15:35:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16856671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lillpon/pseuds/lillpon
Summary: After Lucy's birth, Killian can't help feeling sad as he remembers how his daughter is forced to live away from him.





	Remembering Alice

He hates to admit it, but at first it felt easier to feel like he belongs. Regina always acted motherly to Henry, but it was easier to be distracted by his friendship with Tiana, or by watching the blooming romance between Henry and Ella, or even by the later bond he created with Henry and Jack.

It never occurred to him that he would feel overwhelmed by this company, until Lucy came.

He was happy when she was born, he can’t lie. A new addition to the family, as well as the happy faces of the parents - and the grandmother - should never be seen as a negative experience.

Yet, he’d lie if he said there aren’t times it’s too much. Every time he sees Henry or Ella wonder what to do when the baby doesn’t stop crying, he remembers Alice, and how sometimes the only way to stop her crying was to walk around the tower room, singing softly while she rested on his shoulder. He remembers how she chewed on his hook while she was teething, how she actually loved drinking chamomile almost as much as she loved eating marmalade a few years after.  _Almost_.

And then he remembers how now she’s away, still trying to fix  _his_ mistake. The mistake that cost her as much as it did him - if not more.

So sometimes he sits with the others, offers to hold and play with baby Lucy, making all kinds of faces that make her laugh, talks with the others, allows himself some moments of happiness.

But other times, he just escapes to the privacy of the backside porch. It looks a bit abandoned, with ivy growing around the fence and parts of the stone walls cracked and missing. But no-one ever interrupts him here, when he lies down on the grass and looks at the stars. He always brings a small piece of rope to toy with between his fingers, to keep his hand occupied. Such moments remind him far too much of the time he would stand on the deck of his ship and drink, and now when he visits this porch it’s the hardest time to not run down to the cellar and grab himself a bottle of wine.

So he toys with the rope. He holds it tight in his palm and pretends it’s a rope from his ship, and he’s back there, sailing away, with his Starfish next to him, ready to explore the world with him…

It’s then he allows himself to break down and cry. 

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr on November 22nd 2018.


End file.
